You leave Trincomalee before dawn, the air thin with salt and the road opening into the dry plains of Sri Lanka’s Cultural Triangle. By midmorning the traffic thins and the profile of Sigiriya — a sheer column of ancient gneiss rising out of flat scrub — appears like a deliberate kingdom set on rock. Climbing it feels like entering a stadium carved by time: metal stairways thread ledges, frescoes peer from sheltered galleries, and the ruined palace at the summit throws open a 360-degree map of jungle, paddy, and distant tank reservoirs.